30
September
2006
by Meredith Efken
In August, I posted what I wanted for my birthday. It had to do with a young woman I met in my neighborhood named Jeanette.
Well, God knows how to give GREAT gifts, because a couple weeks ago, I saw her again. Next door. She was surprised and very pleased that I’d remembered her name. She commented again on how much she loves my roses. And she had a surprise for me.
She had moved in next door!
It’s amazing how God works. I told her that I wanted to be her friend, and that anytime she needed anything, just come knock on my door. I said I’d like her to come over for dinner sometime. She said she’d love that. Then she had to go–off with some guy in a car. I’m not sure I want to know the details beyond that–my heart is breaking enough with my educated guesses.
Then I was out of town for the writers conference. I think I saw her once this past week, her hair all done up in curls, getting ready to go out yet again. But the last couple of days, nothing. She’s been on my mind and heart a lot, and I’m starting to worry about her.
So I decided to keep an eye on the traffic coming and going next door and start asking about her. I asked one man who had come to “visit a friend.” He thought he knew who I was talking about, but hadn’t seen her. He seemed a bit bemused that I wanted to find her. “You’re just a friendly type of person, huh?” Yeah…that’s me. Just bein’ neighborly, y’know. 
Then, I saw a blond gal that I thought was her for a moment. But it wasn’t. This one’s name is Terri. She, too, was on her way out somewhere, but she took the time to chat with me.
She said she thought Jeanette had gotten picked up yesterday on “a warrant for…something” (Yeah, three guesses on what the “something” is…) and was still in jail. She was amazed when I said I was a friend and was going to try to find a way to visit her. Even more amazed when I told her that I wanted her and her other friends to know if they ever needed anything, to come knock on my door.
I said I’d love to have her over for dinner sometime. She said it was really rare to meet somebody like that. I was afraid I was maybe moving too fast and freaking her out, and I said so.
Her response made me want to cry. “No, not at all,” she said. “Some days, dinner would be really appreciated.”
Oh God–when You said giving even a drink of water was a gift done unto You, I used to think you were exaggerated for the sake of making a point. But there are Your children out there for whom a drink of water, a simple meal, is a real gift. The pain of that fresh understanding breaks my heart, but I’m so glad for the insight. Now, I want the open doors to do something about it.
So, please, everybody, pray for Jeanette…and now for Terri, too. God loves them, and they need us to love them as well.
Written By: Meredith Efken
Posted under: Women's Voices . 
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26
September
2006
by Meredith Efken
I got back Sunday from the American Christian Fiction Writers national conference. I had a great time–got to talk with my agent and my editor from Steeple Hill, as well as spend time with dear friends and make fabulous new friends. I’ll be posting some pictures and stories of the conference over the coming weeks.
But one of the highlights of the conference for me was when Barbour Publishing announced two new contracts being given to first-time ACFW authors. This is a tradition they started several years ago, and it’s always fun to be able to actually see the moment someone finds out they are going to become a published author.
This year, one of the recipients was unable to attend. By now, I’m sure she’s been notified, so I’m going to spread the good news here on this blog.
I’m very pleased to announce that our own Vasthi Acosta will be having a novella published in an upcoming Barbour novella anthology! I wasn’t able to catch the title of it, so I’ll have to let her post all the details herself.
I’m so proud of you, Vasthi! I know it’s been a lot of hard work and study to reach this point, and I hope and pray that it is only the start of a long and successful writing career.
Please take a moment and post a comment to celebrate Vasthi with me!
Written By: Meredith Efken
Posted under: Women's Voices . Email This Post
22
September
2006
Danica (aka Dream), a friend of mine, has started a terrific new blog about praying for our enemies. I think it’s a tremendous idea, and I really admire that she is also using the blog to record the challenges of making such a commitment. When we have friends who are that willing to actually put Jesus’ words into action, I think they deserve lots of support and encouragement. So go leave some positive comments–and if you have an enemy you want to pray for, you can get that person on the list. Only do be sensitive and maybe use a nickname or common first name.
I was contemplating who I would put on the list. Several people I currently dislike came to my mind, such as the President and people running this government, but I guess I would have to stop short of calling them my “enemies.” I see them as lost, broken people who are doing wrong things because they are sinful. And though those wrong things hurt people, I still am having a hard time seeing them as my enemies.
But I think they need prayer anyway. So, Dream, if you happen to read this, please include them on your list–at least mentally. I don’t want to pressure you to put political figures on your list on the blog unless you want to, but I do think our political leaders are in need of much prayer.
Also, I’m praying for Lionel in apartment 7, next door to us. He’s a drug dealer and pimp, and he needs Jesus. Again, I can’t quite consider him my enemy, and I believe that God is at work in his life, but he needs lots of prayer.
Thanks, Dream, for such a GREAT idea. I hope God blesses you in big ways because of your endeavor.
Written By: Meredith Efken
Posted under: Women's Voices . Email This Post
21
September
2006
By Meredith
I don’t think a lot of guys read this blog, but just in case… be warned. What follows is information about “girl stuff.” Guys, if you’re squeamish about womanly matters, you may want to skip this.
It’s that time of month again. (Men, I DID warn you…) I’ve been wanting to post for a while on the subject of menstrual products, and this seems an appropriate time–for me, anyway–to do so.
Our culture is lightyears from how ancient cultures are portrayed when it comes to our attitudes about monthly cycles. It used to be that menstruation was a rite of passage, a “congratulations, now you are a woman” event that was celebrated. Not anymore! Now we talk about “Aunt Flo” as if she’s the most unwelcome member of any family anywhere.
And with good reason. I used to hate having my periods. The cramping, the facial breakouts, the tiredness, the moodiness, and most of all–having to manage pads or tampons for a week. Not just manage, but BUY them. I resented this part of being a woman. Nice that it means I can probably get pregnant, but considering I’m not all that interested in any more pregnancies at this point, I couldn’t see any other real benefits.
Then there’s the environmental impact of all these pads and tampons. OasisDesign.net figures that every year American women throw away enough pads and tampons to fill up 12,166,166 trash cans! And these products are not biodegradable or recyclable, either. We generate more trash with our menstrual products than we do with disposable diapers, on average.
Plus, there are no regulations on what goes into making these products. Most of them are perfumed and bleached, but not really sterile, no matter what the phrase “sanitary napkins” makes us think.
Not to mention the cost. Spread out over 30-some years, it may not seem like much, but I’ve read estimates anywhere between $3,000-$6,000 spent on pads and other products for one woman’s menstrual lifetime.
This is why I made the switch to alternative menstrual products. I looked around for a while and found cloth pads I really like. They don’t itch, crackle, or shred. They don’t leak. They don’t smell. They come in cute fabric patterns, and are easy to take care of. After you use one, you soak it in plain water for the rest of the cycle. After the cycle, you just throw them in the washing machine and dryer, and then they’re ready for next month. No bleaching, no fabric softener. They can last between 5-7 years.
And to make it even more economical, try a menstrual cup. There’s a couple different kinds. I use the Diva Cup, made from medical grade silicone. Like a tampon, the cup is internally worn, but it catches your flow instead of absorbing it. This means you don’t get dried out inside, and you don’t have to worry about TSS or other infections. I use it along with a cloth pad for my heaviest days, but most of the rest of the time, I can just use the cup. It is very comfortable–I can’t even tell I’m wearing it. And I can wear it for swimming or with thong panties, etc.
There was an unexpected result for me when I switched over, especially to using the Diva Cup. It changed the way I view my body, and how I view menstruation. The Cup requires you to be more aware of your physiology, and it requires you to become more aware of how your cycles work. I have grown to appreciate and even admire the way God made me. How He made us as women. We truly are “fearfully and wonderfully made” as the Psalmist says.
I learned there is nothing “gross” about my monthly blood. It is pure and it is precious to God. I don’t have to hide myself from its reality. I still have some of the other effects, such as cramping, skin problems, etc. but I am trying various herbal remedies and diet solutions to address these issues. And a lot of it has improved as my resentment of my own body has disappeared.
When my daughters reach the age of their first cycles, my plan is to put together a kit for them with cloth pads and a menstrual cup. I don’t want to go as far as some women have gone, where they practically worship their own bodies. But I do want my girls to know that menstruation is a good, God-given thing. Not something shameful.
What about you? Any Divas out there?
Other Links:
Glad Rags
Luna Pads
Myths About Washable Pads
Putting An End To The Curse
Mama Elle
Written By: Meredith Efken
Posted under: Women's Voices . Email This Post
20
September
2006
by Vasthi Acosta
Oprah said, on a recent show, that she never married because she feared losing who she was; having to compromise her essence for the sake of another person. The show presented the premise that marriage could be destructive to a woman’s individuality. Lance Armstrong’s ex-wife claimed she lost her dreams, aspirations and strength when she married, because her life became all about her husband and his dreams, his success, his achievements.
As I listened my heart felt heavy and an inner voice rebelled.
The limitations they placed on marriage, spoke more about the person, than the institution.
After 26 years of marriage, my experience has been the complete opposite of Lance Armstrong’s former wife.
Instead, within marriage I found:
- the security and confidence to fully become myself and reach for my dreams;
- a cheerleader for my achievements;
- a soft, safe place to fall, when life knocks me down;
- an adventure;
- the privilege of watching another life unfold, up close and intimate.
For me, marriage set me free. Free to be vulnerable, expose my doubts and fears, and still be loved. Free to develop my gifts and talents. Free to try. Free to fail.
Within marriage, I have become a better, stronger, more confident me. A gift I never anticipated. I just wanted to live my life alongside this man. To have our lives be intertwined. It became much more than that.
As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another. (Pro. 27:17)
This is what marriage should be. Not a diminishing of one, for the sake of the other, but a joining of two, so both, become better, stronger, richer, freer.
Marriage is not easy. There is plenty of sacrifice and compromise. But what, worth having, doesn’t require the same?
Written By: Vasthi Acosta
Posted under: Women's Voices . Email This Post
19
September
2006
I’ve started a new business this past summer. I’m now the proud proprietor of the Fiction Fix-It Shop, a freelance fiction editing service. If you are writing fiction, or have friends who do, please check it out!
It’s going well so far, and I’m excited about it. But it’s yet another thing on top of my own writing, homeschooling, and church ministry. I need to do it because we need the income. In fact, every thing I’m currently involved in are things I feel I am supposed to be doing.
And sometimes it is overwhelming. Like right now. I leave tomorrow for a writers conference. I’m supposed to be giving a “Late Night Chat” about writing and being a parent. How to make it work. I’m not so sure I have a lot of advice to give on that subject. Sometimes, I’m not sure how to make it work for me, much less anyone else.
This morning, I lay in bed for awhile, just praying that God would help me order and prioritize my day. There’s so much to be done, and I know there is little time. I just have to trust Him that what must be done will get done, somehow. And that it’s okay to leave the rest of it until another time.
So when people ask me “how do you do it all?” I usually say “I don’t!” But it’s true that I’m doing a lot. And somehow it’s working. It’s God, not me, that’s for sure.
And honestly, it’s really exciting to be able to say I’m self-employed. I’ve been self-employed with my writing for several years. But adding the editing is a different kind of self-employment, it seems. I’m not sure how to explain it, but offering a service to other writers feels different than working on my own art. I like both my careers, but the Fiction Fix-It Shop makes me feel like a businesswoman in a way the writing doesn’t.
I just hope and pray I’m not in over my head!
Written By: Meredith Efken
Posted under: Stay At Home Parents, Women's Voices . Email This Post
18
September
2006
by Cynthia
For the last four years, my son and I have attended (usually with Daddy along, but Daddy had to work this year) a Pinewood Derby sponsored by the church’s Royal Rangers groups. This year my son’s winning streak came to an abrupt end. His golden hot rod decorated with Hot Wheel stickers did not place. No matter how much you tell them that they are still a winner, it’s still hard to see that look of disappointment on their face when it happens. Our conversation went something like this:
“Mom, I know I’m not going to win anything this year.”
“I’m sorry, son. But someone has to lose. Look around you. There are lots of other boys who didn’t win either. I bet they feel bad too. But they are still having fun, and you have a great car to take home.”
“I know.”
“We’ll beat ‘em next year, son.” Hugs.
There were no tears, thankfully. I think that would have broken my heart. And as disappointed as I was, I know that it was as good a time as any for my son to learn the facts of life about good sportsmanship. He and I also got a good look at how it feels to be on the other side of the fence. Hopefully he and I both learned something about compassion and humility.
I was thinking about the position I have found myself in lately–such a humbling, and yes, even at times,humiliating position. It’s easy to be smiling and cheerful when you’re in the winner’s circle. But how much more compassionate and humble do we become when we find ourselves in that spot where we never dreamed we would land? We find ourselves identifying with those in our own predicament–those we possibly criticized before. Now, after finding ourselves on the other side of the fence, we realize how hard a pill it is to swallow. We find ourselves wishing we had been a bit more modest about our earlier successes…a little less prideful. We realize how little we really have even given to help the cause of those less fortunate around us. We become more grateful when someone pauses to help us as we struggle back to the top.
Yes, every boy and girl that attended today was a winner just for showing up and trying. The real test of each one’s car was not necessarily how fast it ran against the competition. There have been years when certain cars did not even make it all the way down the track. The real test is crossing the finish line. We must run this race to finish. If our neighbor falters, we must encourage him to go on. If our neighbor stalls, we must do what we can to help him get back on the right track and move ahead. We’re in this thing together. Yes, it is important that we run our race to the best of our ability–to give our absolute best in service to the Lord. Yes, we may have bumpy roads, breakdowns, and false starts where we have to start completely over at the beginning, but the important goal is to cross that finish line and hear our Lord and Master say, “Well done.” How blessed we are that to be in the family of God is to be victorious–in this life and the life to come.
Written By: Cynthia
Posted under: On Being a Parent . Email This Post
15
September
2006
originally posted at Pattie’s blog.
I love hymns. One of the very very cool things about the Air Force Protestant chapel’s “blended” worship service is that the song leader picks a hymn and a chorus that thematically and musically “flow” together. I like to think of it using a real-life picture: the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers. If you’ve ever been up in the Gateway Arch in St. Louis on a clear day, you’ve seen this.
The confluence of the Mississippi and Missouri rivers (read here for more info and pictures) is truly amazing. The Mississippi and Missouri are both known as “muddy” rivers, but from the Arch it’s the Missouri River that appears browner. The Mississippi looks clear and sparkling in comparison. Yet together, both rivers make up the fourth longest river system in the world. They work together, if you will. The two rivers flow together and even though there’s a distinct color difference on a clear day, they are still rivers and they still converge. There isn’t a land break or a sand bar in between them. Just water.
To me, it’s the same thing with worship music. And no, I’m not calling either type of music “muddy”!
I have friends who scoff at hymns and hymnals (jokingly, I hope!), while others couldn’t dream of singing anything else in church. I have been in churches that didn’t sing anything but the “old” hymns (where a Twila Paris chorus was “that new music”), and I’ve been in churches that sing nothing but praise choruses. I think a mixture is in order. I think it’s best when the rivers work together to do the job they were created to do.
My soul thrills at singing a familiar hymn, then on the last chorus hearing the drums speed things up, the keyboard and guitar playing in tandem, to lead us into a praise chorus taken straight from the songwriter’s walk with God. Blended.
Yeah, I like that.
Written By: Pattie
Posted under: Women's Voices . Email This Post
14
September
2006
by Meredith
I got an email this morning from a friend of the family who has been stationed in Iraq for a little more than a year as a medic. He’s coming home! His wife, also a dear friend, has gone through a pregnancy and has been raising their (now) 3 kids by herself. I can only imagine the intense joy and relief they will experience once he is safely home again.
This war makes me so angry! People like my friend, brave and well-trained, are being put in harm’s way. And for what? Lies. The politicians use the more polite word “mislead” but the truth is, our President lied to us. There was no good, moral reason to start this war.
So while I rejoice at my friend’s homecoming, I grieve for the others whose homecoming was absent of life and joy, or who returned home alive, but barely. It’s so senseless.
I long for a government that uses its power to help and not hurt, that does good to the world and not evil. Our country has that potential, if we the people appoint leaders who deserve the power we give them and will use it wisely and with true compassion.
I don’t know how my friend and his wife feel about this war. His emails have always been very careful to put on a good face and be upbeat and positive. But I’ve done something today in honor of my friend.
I joined CodePink. It’s a group of women taking action to promote peace.
I approach this with a bit of apprehension. I’m not an activist. I spend most of my day hiding behind my computer screen or homeschooling my children. The thought of trying to add yet another cause to my list of things I feel strongly about makes me feel exhausted.
But when I think about not only our troops but also about the thousands and thousands of Iraqis–many children the same age as my own daughters–who have died in this senseless war, I know I can’t stay silent.
My anger has been slow to be kindled, mainly because I’ve been working so hard the last few years just to stay on top of my own life. Some days, the most I can manage is to take care of my children. I don’t say this as an excuse. I say it because I know it’s reality for many women, not just me. Many of us DO care. Many of us ARE angry–when we have the time to think about it.
So I may not be able to fly all around the country attending protests. But here is my protest. Here is my demonstration for peace. Even if it’s “just” a blog post. I’ll do more as I have the chance.
Please help me celebrate the safe return of my friend. Please help me honor the lives, both civilian and military, that have been lost. Go check out CodePink and at least sign up for their weekly emails. It doesn’t mean you have to take part in anything, until you want to. But an email will help keep the issue in front of you, even amid the busyness of life. Pray. Beg God for an end to this war. Let His sorrow over the whole business touch your heart and move you to action.
If you sign up on CodePink, I’d love to know. Come back and leave a comment.
Welcome home, my friend! I thank God for your safe return.
Written By: Meredith Efken
Posted under: Women's Voices . Email This Post
11
September
2006
Written By: Vasthi Acosta
Why are they building a field in my back yard?
Well, actually not in my back yard, because I don’t have one, living in a Manhattan apartment as I do. It’s the park two blocks away. And it’s not really being built. The baseball field already exists. It’s the 3,000 American flags planted there that disturbs.
They’ve planted these flags in my children’s park. Where they swung on swings, slid on slides, dug in the sand box and got soaked with the sprinkler.
They’ve planted these flags to commemorate the lost lives of 9/11.
And I’m angry.
This anger is familiar. I feel it whenever a movie comes out about this event. Whenever a news item mentions it. Whenever the anniversary rolls around and I know they’ll start showing those video clips again. You know the ones. I feel it anytime my bruise is touched by memory.
Intellectually, I know people need to revisit this event. People grieve in their own way. People look for ways to cope with their pain, their loss. I know that for some it is therapeutic. Maybe even for me.
And yet, even five years later I still can’t face it.
I don’t want those flags in my park. I don’t want to acknowledge our loss. I don’t want to remember the pain, horror, fear, loss.
But there the flags stand. Lives lost, families altered, futures gone.
There they wave. Life still lived. Families still united. Hope still present.
It hurts to remember.
But I need to, and so do my children.
Today we’ll walk among the flags and remember. And cry. And hurt. And still hope.
Written By: Vasthi Acosta
Posted under: Women's Voices . Email This Post
